Not What it Seems
by IHASCOOKIES9142006
Summary: Maxon chooses Kriss. Is Kriss really who she says she is, a Northern rebel, or is she something different?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **Hi peeps. This is my first fanfiction. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm trying to get the characters right, but leave a review if I'm off and I'll correct it. Oh and disclaimer: I own the story plot but not the characters. All rights go to Kiera Cass.**

America POV

Kriss is a good choice for Maxon, I guess. I'm still shocked that she is a Northern rebel, but August and Georgia never said anything about her. I guess I'm happy for her. Even though I love Maxon, I respect his choice.

\- TIME SKIP TO FEW DAYS AFTER ENGAGMENT CEREMONY -

Maxon POV

"Maxon, can't we just elope or something?" asked Kriss, clinging on to my arm. I chuckled. "Kriss, you know we can't do that." I said, looking at her. "I have a duty to this country, and pretty soon you will too." Kriss playfully groaned.

"I just want to get married right away, you know?" she sighed. I nodded, but it was halfhearted. America stole my heart, and I wanted it back, but I knew if we ever saw each other again, I would convince myself otherwise. But I learned my lesson. Don't put your happiness in other people's hands. They'll drop it. They'll drop it every time. I looked down at my watch and sucked in a breath. "Oh, no, Kriss, we are late for our meeting with the wedding planner!" I exclaimed. Kriss laughed. "Then let's hurry!" she said, pulling my arm.

The meetings are always awfully boring. I wasn't expecting any more out of this one. "So, the table cloths color should be a bright color, right Maxon?" asked Kriss, pulling me out of my thoughts. I nodded. "Uh-huh." Kriss turned back to Miss Sanchez. "We would want it to be bright and happy, isn't that right Maxon?" I cleared my throat. "Yes." Miss Sanchez nodded and wrote it down in her notes. "What about the flowers?" she asked. This was going to be a long meeting...

-TIME SKIP TO FEW HOURS LATER-

I was at my desk doing dumb deskwork, bored out of my mind. My mind wandered to my parents who were now dead due to a recent rebel attack. Father... He may have hurt me many times, but have I wanted him to die? Of course not, I guess. Now mother... My eyes filled with tears. She didn't deserve t die. She was so sweet. A knock at the door pushed me back into reality. I wiped the tears and called out, "Come in." A butler walked in. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "Yes?" I asked, curious. The staff knew they weren't supposed to bother me while I'm working unless it's important. "We were cleaning the king and queen suite, as you requested. We found quite a few things. These letters that we found are addressed to you, from your mother and father," he said, handing the letters to me. I took them. He was right, one was in my mother's handwriting, the other in my father's handwriting. Both with my name on it. I opened Father's first.

* * *

 _Maxon,_

 _If you are reading this, it means I'm dead. Let's hope you chose a good wife. Remember what I always told you. Be better, faster, Maxon. Don't think I did what I did for bad reasons. You have to understand, you grew up a better person because of me right? Of course I won't be there to watch you stumble. You won't rule better than me, of course, but you'll be alright._

King of Illea,

Clarkson Shreave

* * *

I opened my mother's next.

* * *

 _My Dearest Maxon,_

 _I know that if you are reading this I'm gone. I'm sorry that I won't be there to tell you I love anymore. These will be my last words to you, so I'll make them my best. There is not one thing you can do that I won't forgive. It's beautiful how easily we can give up on things we love for the people we love. If your stuck at the bottom, grow flowers there. These ramblings may sound strange to you, but it's my last advice to you. Some people walk away, but never truly leave. Remember that, Maxon. Stop thinking so hard about everything, stop overanalyzing, just go, just do. If it feels right just go with the flow. If it feels wrong, don't think about it anymore, and walk away. Don't forget, it's the little things that matter. And Maxon, remember this: the last person you think about before you go to bed, that's who your heart belongs to. Don't run until everything you know fades away. Face it. Maxon, I love you, and I'm so proud of you. I hope you live a good life._

 _Love,_

 _Amberly Shreave, Mom_

* * *

Tears were streaming down my face now. Why is it that when the story ends, we begin to feel all of it?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Some of the credit of this chapter goes to my sister who gave me some ideas and helped me edit. Even now as I'm writing this she's correcting me, even though I didn't write anything wrong. -_-**

America POV

When I went home after the engagement party, I thought everything would go back to normal. I was wrong. Almost every day, reporters came to my house for an interview. Oh, and many men showed up, asking me to marry them, but how could I? As much as I was ashamed to admit it, I still loved Maxon. Sometimes I wrote letters to him, knowing he would never see them. Today was no different. As I was closing the door, to yet another proposal, I decided to write another letter to Maxon. I went upstairs to my room, grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, and sat down. For some reason, writing to him made me feel as if I was talking to him in the flesh.

 _Dear Maxon,_

 _I will start this letter by saying that I still love you,_

No, this is too mushy, not like me at all. I sighed and crumpled the paper, and leaned back into my chair. Is this how it's going to be for the rest of my life? Heartbroken, watching him and Kriss grow old together, having children? _No_. I can't allow myself to think of that. "America?" came a call from downstairs. "Yeah?" I called back to my mom. "Come down here! Help me with dinner." I sighed and made my way downstairs. I started making tea. Then I suddenly stopped. "What's wrong?" asked Mom, bustling around. I kept going. "Nothing," I said, pouring the tea into cups. But I had just realized it was Friday, and my mom would want me to watch the _Report_ tonight. I certainly didn't want to see Maxon and Kriss making goo-goo eyes at each other the whole show. It would be the first _Report_ after the engagement party and I knew the highlight of the show would be about Maxon and Kriss.

Dinner was silent. Through the meal I sat picking at my food, but still, I ate it. I knew what we were all thinking about: Dad. He isn't here and he never will be again. It is always dinner when we missed Dad the most, because he would never let silence take over the meal. He would always say something funny, or at least _something_ to break it. I let my thoughts wander to Maxon and thought of the wonderful food we would have back at the palace. _Is he having fun with Kriss? Does he do the same things_ we _did with her?_ These thoughts consume me through dinner, through the clean-up, until it was time to watch the _Report._ "America, come sit,"said Mom, just as I was trying to sneak away. I inwardly groaned. Doesn't she see how hard this is for me? My heart is broken, and I need some time to heal before I see the man I love with another woman.

I thumped down next to May, and felt her hand cover mine. I looked at her. With tears in her eyes, May whispered, "Don't worry, I don't want to see this either." I felt new confidence course through me. At least I wasn't in this alone. Mom flipped on the TV and the Illea national anthem played. Maxon's face appeared, and I cringed, remembering that Maxon was the king now. _And Kriss will be the queen..._ He gave updates on budget cuts and the levels that have gone up in poverty. He asked us to donate the most money we can for charities. Then Gavril showed up, and wiggled his eyebrows. "And now for the part you've all been waiting for, the exclusive of King Maxon's and our soon-to-be queen, Lady Kriss's engagement." He made his way to _the lovely couple_ and sat down right next to them. "So I will start with Kriss," said Gavril facing her. "How is it, being Maxon's Chosen?" Kriss blushed, though I didn't see any reason for that. "Well, I had tough competition, but in my heart I knew everything would turn out okay." I snorted. _Tough competition indeed._ "Oh, that's what it was then?" asked Gavril. "A competition?" Ha. _See how she likes being put in the spotlight._ Kriss shook her head wildly. "No, not really, Gavril, you know what I mean." Kriss giggled and wrapped her arm around Maxon's. The sight made me want to vomit. Gavril turned to Maxon. "What about you, King Maxon?" Maxon, the picture of ease, asked "What _about_ me, Gavril?" Gavril laughed. "What made you choose this lovely lady?" he asked, nodding towards Kriss. She stopped smiling and looked up at Maxon. _She really wants to know._ Maxon thought for a moment. "I think it's because of her personality, and of course her beauty. She has this quality about her that not many people have. It makes you want always be around her." Kriss laughed, satisfied with that answer and turned to Gavril. But I knew the truth. Maxon hated me and his only other choice was Kriss."And _are_ you? Always around her I mean?" he asked. Maxon shook his head. "If I could, I would, but work is always in the way," he responded, smiling at Kriss. Again, I wanted to vomit. When the _Report_ was finally over, I trudged upstairs and started writing another letter.

 _Dear Maxon,_

 _It's a bit too late for this but, I'm sorry._

* * *

 _TIME SKIP: A FEW HOURS LATER_

After I finished the small errand that Mom sent me on, I went back upstairs to my room. As I was about to open the door, I heard something rustling inside. _What?_ I opened the door to reveal May with a piece of paper in her hand and tears in her eyes. "May?" I asked, confused at why she was in my room. She looked up at me. "You should send this," she whispered, her voice about to crack. I grabbed the paper and read it. It was the letter I had written earlier. "This letter? No way!" May grabbed my arms. "He loves you America!" she said, her voice rising on every word. "Can't you see!" I shook my head violently. "No, he doesn't May!" I said, tears streaming down my face. "You don't know what love is!" And with that, I pushed her out and slammed the door. I slid down and cried on the floor, reality finally catching up to me. "Oh, Maxon," I whispered, smoothing out the wrinkled paper. "I love you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **So, I'm trying to publish as fast as I can, because I don't want to let you guys down. These chapters can be short but I'm trying the best I can, so bear with me. If you see any mistakes, leave a review.**

May POV

America is so sad. I'm going to do something about it. Today I snuck into America's room and found her letter. I think it's beautiful. I made a meeting with Mrs. Leger to ask her for help. She's the only person I can trust with this. I knocked on her door quickly, looking around to see if anyone is watching. Nope, the coast is clear. Mrs. Leger opened the door and I walked in quickly. "Hi Mrs. Leger." I quickly explained what we needed to do. She agreed. What we are going to do is mail America's letter to King Maxon. We hope it will make him see that him and America are meant to be. Mrs. Leger found an envelope and we put the letter inside. She put a stamp on it and signed it. Then we stuck the envelope into the mailbox. I took a deep breath, and gave a quick little prayer to God that the letter gets to the palace fast enough.

Maxon POV

More deskwork. I tried putting on soothing music, tried taking a soothing bath, but nothing worked. I kept wondering if America watched the _Report_ last night. _No, of course not. And if she did, why should you care?_ A knock at the door. I leaned back and called out, "Come in." A maid walked in with a silver platter. "Your Majesty, a letter came in from Carolina." Carolina? Isn't that where America came from? Nevertheless, I took the letter and thanked the maid. She curtsied and walked out. I looked at the envelope. It was from another person, Lena Leger. It wasn't America's handwriting either. I opened it.

* * *

 _Dear Maxon,_

 _I know this is a bit too late, but I'm sorry. I want to start simple. Suddenly every single song I hear is about you. I don't know why, but I'm attracted to you in ways I can't explain. I'm always thinking that I have met someone who's smile could make flowers grow. You. Do you ever think about the first time we met and think about where we are now? And it's like wow, who knew this would happen? Me begging for you to take me back. Because I still love you Maxon. I never thought not once in my life I would be in this position. And it's not like me, Maxon, but you make me a different person. A good person. And I like the change. I know this is probably something you would tell me, but, my dear, love will carry you farther than hate ever could. I need to know if you still love me. Because I miss your hugs. I miss your kisses. And sometimes I write these dumb love letters to you because it feels like I'm talking to you. And then reality hits me and I realize you aren't here so I can tug my ear. And I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye at the party, but you were so distant, I forgot you were there at all. A_ _nd you're a good guy, you really are. You've hurt me and you've broken my heart, but you're genuinely a good guy. There's so many times when I would be crying or upset and I knew I was able to go to you because you knew exactly what to say. You always knew how to make me feel better and you're so caring. I've never met someone that could say one thing and make the whole room smile within an instant, until I met you, of course. I'm pretty sure after all the hurt you put me through, I should hate you. Weirdly enough, I_ _couldn't hate you, even if I tried. And I was looking through an old magazine, when I found of picture you. Of us. Laughing. It made me smile because it reminded me of me and you, of what we used to be. But then I cried because we will never be the same again. I miss you so much it hurts. I'm just sad because I really loved you, more than I've loved anyone in a long time. Tonight, I got slapped in the face with the reality that I'll never be able to call you mine and that it isn't a very big deal to you. Just because we don't talk anymore, doesn't mean that I've forgotten about you. It doesn't mean that I no longer care. Truth is, I still do. I do my best to check up on you, to see how you're doing. To see if you're okay, but every time I get the urge to talk to you, it suddenly hits me that, we're strangers, you don't want me in your life, hence the reason why I'm no longer a part of you. But, even though everything's changed; I just want you to know that, I'm still here. I'll still be here for you. I'll still lend you my_ _shoulders and ears. I don't care what time it is, what I'm doing. Don't hesitate to talk to me, because half the time, I wish that you were talking to me. I just really miss your presence, I miss you being my best friend. I just miss you in general. And Maxon, you can tell a lot about a person by the things they run from and the people they run to. I understand if you don't love me anymore, given the things I've done and said, but I just couldn't live this life without telling you how I still feel. I love you, Maxon._

 _Love,_

 _America Singer_

* * *

Wow. I tried not to cry, but America's words were so beautiful. During all these days I had forgotten how it felt to be in America's arms, but now I can remember it clearly. But then I was angry. Why would she write to me? I'm the king! I can get her executed if I want! And then I softened. I couldn't do that to America. Not ever. Do I still love America? And if I did, what would I do about it? And Kriss…she was a part of this too. Would I leave Kriss for America? Would I leave America for Kriss? Whichever direction I turn, someone is going to get hurt. Maybe I should write a letter to America? I got out a sheet of paper. I wanted to write down exactly what I felt, but somehow the paper felt empty, and I could not have described it any better. In the end I decided that sending a letter to America would give her hope, and as of right now, I not sure what I'm going to do. I sighed. What a long day.

I ate dinner, then I got ready for bed. As I was slipping under the covers, an image of America popped into my head. Then I pushed it out, remembering Mother's words. _The last person you think about before going to bed, that's who your heart belongs to._ But try as I may, Kriss's image kept getting pushed out by America's image. _It's not possible…is it?_

America POV

I flopped down on my bed. Horrible day today. I went to a Two's house. She called me a horrible pianist and violinist. Her exact words were: "You are horrible piano player! And you make a beautiful violin sound like it's dying! How the hell did you even get in the Selection anyway?!" Ugh. Someone knocked on my bedroom door. "What?" I called out. May came in. She looks nervous. I sat up. "May, what's wrong?" I asked. She bit her lip. "I did something," she responded, not looking at me. "What did you do? Did you get in trouble?" I'm confused now. "No, I didn't get in trouble, but I'm pretty sure I will," she whispered. "What did you do, May?" I was getting irritated now. "I sent your letter, the one you wrote to Maxon." I jumped up. "What?!" I grabbed May's tiny shoulders. "May, that letter is a love letter! I could get killed!" May shook her head. "I will just keep telling you, America, you're meant to be!" I crossed my arms. "Keep telling yourself that," I said, then pushed May to the side and walked out of my room.

Maxon POV

I can't stop thinking about America. And then Kriss is insisting we move the wedding date up, but I don't want to and I'm not sure why. I just have this feeling. Today the tailor came to measure me to make my suit for the wedding. He was asking me about the arrangement of medals that will be across my chest when I remembered what America had said about them. I gave a half smile and mumbled, "You should hang me with the chandeliers." The tailor stopped. "Excuse me, sir?" I shook my head. "Nothing."

I wondered what Kriss was doing. I stopped the tailor and asked him, "Are you almost done?" He nodded. After he was done, I stepped the pedestal and move towards the princess's suite, Kriss's room. Sometimes I get sad because I knew I had reserved that room solely for the woman I love. And I know I don't love Kriss. I like her, but I don't love her. My heart aches thinking of the woman I _did_ love. I remember I used to stare at that room, and imagine her there, laughing at me. Sleeping, playing the piano, the violin, just _there._ I'm too ashamed to even say her name. I walk in and see a different tailor working on Kriss. Kriss catches sight of me and gasps. "Maxon!" she exclaims. She stops the tailor and steps off the pedestal. "What a surprise! I thought you'd be in there longer." I smiled. Kriss waved me over. "My maids put on new perfume. I think it's too strong, so I wanted your opinion." I remembered America had told me almost the same thing. I leaned closer to take a sniff but I didn't get as close as I once did with America. "Nope, it smells wonderful," I said. Kriss smiled and nodded.

The tailor walked over to us. She bowed. "Your Majesty, I need the measurements for her head, we need to know the size of the crown for the coronation." I nodded. Kriss smiled apologetically and stepped back on the pedestal. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked away. "Oh, and Maxon?" called out Kriss. I turned around. "Yes?" She smiled. "Are we still having a private dinner tonight?" Oh yeah, I forgot. We had discussed it, wait, no, she just came up with the idea and asked me about it. I remember just mumbling a yes or something. I gave a fake smile and nodded. "Yes, of course, I'm looking forward to it." What a lie.

Dinner was, in so little words, awful. Even the food was horrible. Kriss was all bubbles and clearly, she was happy. I wasn't. There is something about her that I can't read. What is my problem? Just because America had sent me a dumb little love letter, doesn't mean it should affect me like this. But there really was something off in Kriss as I was studying her. There was a glint in her eyes and I wasn't sure what it meant.

After dinner was over, Kriss and I were walking in the gardens. I was kind of miffed because I only shared this place with America, and I wasn't sure I was ready to share it with someone else. But Kriss insisted, and whatever the woman says goes, I suppose. "Maxon?" Kriss asked, looking up at me. "Yes?" Kriss gave a half smile. "You seem out of it today. What's wrong?" she said, holding me closer. It wasn't the most comfortable position for me. I shrugged, which I _don't_ do. I'm the king. I have perfect posture. "I guess I don't feel like talking today." I tried for an apologetic face. "Mm," Kriss nodded and laid her head on my shoulder. I wanted to wiggle out of her grip, but I knew it would look wrong. The only person I have ever felt comfortable with like this is America, but unfortunately, she isn't here.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 **I am trying so hard to make these chapters long but… UGH! It's hard. Anyway, enjoy.**

Maxon POV

I feel like screaming. So much work, too much pressure. Kriss is _not_ helping. She keeps pestering me about the wedding. Like, _woman give me some space._ It's so infuriating. One day I'm going to crack and scream at everybody. I'm just waiting.

Certain thoughts keep popping up. Do I love America?

Kriss keeps asking me to move up the wedding.

The advisors yell at me.

JUST TOO MUCH PRESSURE.

They don't understand my position. America did. I always told her how no one listened to my opinions and she sympathized with me. Of course, now, everyone _must_ listen to me, but not like how I want them to. I'm staring at the wall of my bedroom. It's blank. I used to have pictures of my sweet, beautiful, darling America. But I tore it down. Every picture, every memory, gone. I hid them all in a box, in my closet, far, far, away from me. And along with them my camera. Nothing in this world is deemed beautiful enough now to take a photo, a memory. America took it all with her. Along with my heart. I sniffed. I didn't realize I was crying. Do I love America?

I shook my head to rid myself of these thoughts. I took a glance sideways, and subconsciously looked at the clock. I took another glance. Dammit, I'm late for my photoshoot with Kriss! I stumbled a bit in my haste to get out my room, but I made it to the hallway unscathed. I walked in the gallery to see Kriss calmly chatting with the photographer. "Maxon!" Kriss said, speaking through gritted teeth. "Your late." She forced a smile. I mumbled an apology and turned to the photographer. "Where do you want us?" He led us to a set of low couches, and we sat down. "What happened?" Kriss asked, smiling at the camera. "Why were you late?" I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, even though I didn't want to. It's all for the camera. "Work," I whispered. Kriss huffed, but didn't complain. The photographer smiled at us and instructed us to move our position every so often.

After the session, I was about to leave the room, but Kriss stopped. "Maxon, don't forget, we have a meeting with the wedding planner," she said. "Don't be late." I inwardly groaned. _Another one?_

America POV

I keep wondering if Maxon will write back. Of course, I stopped writing to Maxon, fearful of what May will do next. May came running in my room when I was reading. I was irritated because she knows not to bother me when I'm reading, and always to knock. "What, May?" I asked, groaning and covering my eyes. "Maxon and Kriss are going to get married in one month!" she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. " _And?_ " I asked, looking at her. She pouted. "Sorry America." I shrugged and continued reading. May came closer. "Why do you do that?" she asked. I looked at her again. "Do what?" She studied me with her blue eyes. "Every time you care about something, like _really_ care, you shut it out. Why?" I remember once Maxon told me almost the same thing. I guess I really _do_ do that. I shrugged again. "He chose Kriss. I'm okay with that." May gave me a sympathetic look and walked out.

Later, we were eating dinner and Mom kept trying to lighten the mood but miserably failing. Mom and May kept giving each other glances. Finally, I got fed up with it. I put down my fork rather forcefully. "What? What is it?" May glanced at Mom again. Mom opened her mouth to say something but then just then shouts came from the front door. Mom gasped as someone knocked open the door. I quickly grabbed Gerad who was right next to me and held him close. Mom did the same with May. Strong looking people walked in. My mind made the connections. Rebels. I've seen them before. I couldn't process this correctly as I watched them start yelling at us. A man pried May away from Mom then tied them both up. He hit Mom on the side of her head and she conked out. He did the same with May. "No!" I screamed as someone pulled Gerad from my arms. I heard him start crying but the rebel told him to shut up, and thank goodness, he did. He was tied up and hit in the head too, but blood was pouring out of his head. The rebel's started laughing and grabbed me. I screamed and tried to wiggle out of their grip but they were too strong. I cursed at them and called them names. One stopped laughing and slapped me hard across my face. I think he split my lip. I spat at him, which made him angrier. He roared and pushed me down hard, and I hit the floor, and liquid dribbled down my chin. Blood, I think, from my nose. Another rebel, the leader I suppose, hit him in the back of his head. "She's valuable, stupid! Don't damage the treasure," he said, angry. They were going to keep us alive? Because we are valuable? To who? Maxon? I certainly understood that. The other rebel grumbled but muttered, "Fine." and tied me up. "Night, night," he cackled and hit my head with his gun.

Maxon POV

I flopped down on my bed. The day's work was done, and I could finally relax. I didn't even want to take off my suit; I was so tired. I could hear Kriss moving around in the princess suite and I hoped she wouldn't come in and ruin my relaxation. She didn't. I noticed a paper sticking out of my perfect pile of paperwork. My eye twitched. I worked so hard to keep them all straight and here they are, messed up by one small paper. What a drag. I groaned and got up, my back aching. I sighed and pulled out the paper, but realized it wasn't a paper at all. It was a photo. Of America. I remember this day. It was a candid I took of her the day the Swendish royal family visited. America didn't know I took that picture. I smiled remembering that day. America was laughing about something, and I thought she looked so beautiful, with the sunlight shining through her hair, it looked like she was glowing. She was the only one that stood out. I couldn't resist so I had grabbed my camera and snapped a picture before the moment was over. Do I love America?

Someone knocked rapidly on my door. I groaned again. I opened the door, ticked off. There was a guard outside with an urgent expression on his face. "What is it now?" I asked, trying sound as polite as possible.

"We just received a message from the rebels. We couldn't track it, but the message is clear. Sir, the rebels have captured Lady America and her family. They have not killed them, but they are demanding money for their safety. They gave you a deadline of a week."

"How much money?" I asked quietly. "Ten billion dollars, Your Majesty," answered the guard. Of course, I wouldn't hesitate to rescue America, but money was the problem. Sure, I had a lot of money, but not like _that_. I mean, I could pay them, but what about everyone else? I sighed. "I guess we pay them," I said. The guard's eyes widened. "Are you sure, Your Majesty?" he asked, surprised. I nodded and rubbed my eyes. I would have to stop purchasing extremely expensive items for a while, but it will be worth it. I couldn't just let America and her family die. I couldn't just let _anyone_ die. I kept trying to convince myself that I didn't just pay for a ransom because I love America, but because I'm a gentleman and I wouldn't let anything happen to anyone.

The next morning, I found out that America's family had to come to the palace to thank me for "saving them." I feared seeing America's face. She would try to look suave and confident, but her eyes would betray her and I would see the pleading in them. And I would fall in love all over again. I told Kriss about the ransom and she looked so shocked, it looked fake. I wondered what was going on with her. It must be pre-wedding weirdness.

I straightened my suit for the millionth time, standing at the end of the Great Room, waiting for America and her family to arrive. Finally, the doors opened, and my heart sped up. But first wasn't America, it was America's mother. Magda, I believe was her name. I drew myself up to my full height and watched as she approached. She stepped right in front of me and bowed deeply. "Thank you, King Maxon, for saving my life," she said, tears in her eyes. Then she walked away slowly. Next was May, America's sister. She quickly bowed and said, "Thank you, King Maxon, for saving my life." She didn't make eye contact. I suppose she hates me now. A little boy walked in. This must be Gerad, America's younger brother. He obviously didn't know how to bow and tried, but fell over. He stood up, his face red, and thanked me. Then he ran to his mother. Then America walked in. My breath caught in my throat. Even now, in a dirty shirt and ripped jeans, she looked beautiful. I noticed stitches on her head, right where her hair line is. Her lip is cut, but not bleeding. I tried not to look concerned.

She walked up to me and bowed. She stood up to her full height too and looked me straight in the eye. I was right from earlier. She looked, confident, uncaring, but grateful at the same time. But her eyes said everything.

And I fell in love all over again.

"Thank you, King Maxon, for saving my life," she said. On her last word her voice cracked and tears filled her eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand, turned, and ran from me. She left the room, her family following. I could hear her sobs echoing through the hallways. My heart broke again, and pain filled my chest. I ran too, tears spilling from my eyes. I pushed past guards until I reached my room. I slammed the door, locked it, then went to the door to Kriss's room and locked it too. And I let myself cry. I tried to hate America but her beautiful, tear stained face reminded me that I make her cry all the time. I have no reason to hate her. And I remembered what America had told me in her letter: _My dear, love will carry you farther than hate ever could._ If that was true, then I was experiencing two things at once.

Love and hate.

I gasped as a sudden thought hit me like a train. I pulled out a paper and started answering the question I have been asking myself for days. Do I love America?

And I do.

America POV

I ran out of the Great Room, through the familiar halls of the palace. My family followed. I hit the main entrance and couldn't make it any further. I collapsed on the ground and sobbed. Why did he look so distant? His expression did not change whatsoever. My mother came and cuddled me from my right, May on my other side. Poor Gerad behind me, awkwardly standing there watching me cry. "Hush, baby, it's alright," Mom said, rubbing my back. May was fully embracing me and crying too. I felt like screaming. Why do I let myself get hurt? With Aspen, with Maxon, who else? Why, _why,_ do I do that? I imagine a future together, then they leave. I make too many mistakes, it's time to finally let go. Stop trying. Love is so overrated.

Mom and May help me up and I wipe my tears away. I need to stop crying over him. He's made me cry too many times.


End file.
